


Warm Like This

by kaori



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-22
Updated: 2010-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-16 00:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaori/pseuds/kaori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Dino understands well that Hibari is more a person of feeling and instincts. Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warm Like This

**Author's Note:**

> [Art](http://kaorismash.livejournal.com/81691.html?thread=2539291#t2539291) by [](http://bucket-shot.livejournal.com/profile)[**bucket_shot**](http://bucket-shot.livejournal.com/). *_* ♥

The appropriate dress code for winter, Dino thinks, should always consist of a thick, comfortable jacket with a fur-lined hood over layers of shirts and tees. This is why, in the middle of winter where the clouds are miserable and the air stings like ice, Dino is bundled up in his ever-present coat, a beguiling smile on his lips as he people-watches: suited men walking briskly by, hunched under heavy winter coats and wide-brimmed mufflers; young girls shivering in knee-high boots and quarter-thigh skirts; Kyouya, staring death at smoking school boys who have failed to uphold the law of Namimori’s uniform regulations (or perhaps Kyouya just doesn’t like smoke); Kyouya, crossing the street with his tonfa drawn.  
   
Dino cringes, turns away, and pretends to observe the fashionable mannequins through a frosted window shop. Everyone who wants no association with the group of delinquents, he notices with a wry smile, are similarly busied. He knows better than to interfere with Kyouya’s sense of duty. They all do.  
   
When Kyouya strays back to his side, flecks of red trailing his journey across the grimy street, Dino asks indulgently, “Have you warmed up enough?”  
   
Kyouya pauses, eyes slanting to Dino’s face. “Is that an insult, Cavallone?”  
   
It would sound more threatening, Dino thinks, if the tonfa weren’t now tucked safely away. Dino smiles and moves his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “Are you still cold, Kyouya?”  
   
Kyouya walks away, towards Namimori.  
   
“I think you are,” Dino continues brazenly, easily keeping up with Kyouya’s stalk. Dino extends his arm and touches the pads of his fingers to the back of Kyouya’s neck. Daringly, he presses the palm of his hand around Kyouya’s nape.

Abruptly, Kyouya stops walking.

Recklessly, Dino smiles.

Just as Dino squeezes, Kyouya breaks away.

“I think you are a fool,” Kyouya says, but he does not draw his weapons. He continues walking.

  


The appropriate dress code for winter, then, is definitely not what Hibari's wearing: black slacks and a knitted school vest over a long-sleeved shirt. The school tie knotted neatly to his buttoned collar is a poor substitute for a scarf, but Hibari seems undaunted as ever even as wind seeps through the white of his shirt.

It is not that Hibari's unaffected, but that he does not care for it. He refuses to let it inconvenience him like it does the herbivores who huddle up together, trembling uncontrollably under their coats and gloves and too-long scarves. Even on the iciest of days when the snow is inches off the ground, Hibari remains stiff and straight backed, entirely impervious, having learnt very early that if he keeps his stomach muscles tensed, the cold would not enter his chest. He'd still be able to feel the constant bite of frost at the tips of his fingers, his hands and his feet, his nose and even his ears, but he would not tremble, would show no weakness—just for that, it'd become an ingrained habit.

Cavallone is inexplicably— _frustratingly_ —like a heated furnace. Hibari notices this mostly when they fight, where each strike he lands leaves with a hint of pleasant warmth. The heat lingers, but it never seems enough. On such days he finds he loses his tonfa much more quickly than most.

Like now, where Cavallone has managed to catch his arm with his whip. Easily, Hibari lets go of the tonfa in his free hand and grabs onto the fall of the whip, tugging with surprising strength for his slighter build.

Cavallone slips forward, whip loosening enough for Hibari to break free—he doesn't. Instead, Hibari releases the second tonfa and wraps chilled fingers around braided leather, yanking viciously with both hands so that Cavallone falls into his kick.

 _Warm_ , even through the fabric covering his knee. _Ridiculous,_ Hibari thinks, and lunges.

He's too vexed to suppress the shivers because it's suddenly too cold and too hot all at once when Cavallone's arms wrap him for a brief second before he's thrown into the freezing air.

  


It doesn't take Dino long to notice when Hibari gets too distracted to feign indifference. It's delightfully obvious when they're fighting and even when they're not—in the way Hibari freezes just that little bit more each time Dino leans towards him, heat trailing like a cloud; when Dino ruffles his hair and manages to easily evade the threatening snap of teeth that are a fraction delayed.

Dino finds this entirely too endearing to resist.

"Foolishly brave?" Dino teases with a grin spread wide across his lips.

Today is an impossibly icy day and Hibari is unusually sullen—though how he ever knows baffles Romario forever.

Impulsively, Dino spins out of his jacket in one quick motion and dares to place the warm, heavy thing over Hibari's shoulders.

"Ta _daa_ ," Dino sings with arms extended. Hibari is unfortunately too used to his ridiculous antics to be otherwise affected, Dino knows, except for the jacket antic. This is the first Dino has tried it.

Hibari slants him a look, eyes narrowed as they always are, blinking in what Dino understands is bewilderment. Until Hibari realizes that he actually likes it, the weight of the thick, furry lining much nicer than the silky brocade lining his gakuran. Without scruples, he slides his arms easily through sleeves too long.

The jacket is well-worn and the fur so very soft where it tickles flirtingly against his cheeks. It's a hideous color, but Hibari can't deny that the comfort well makes up for it's lack of aesthetic appeal. Satisfied, he shoves his hands into the deep pockets and decides to never give it back.

Perhaps today, Hibari considers, he'll take a nap out on the rooftop.

Dino chuckles, smile so very fond, and ruffles Hibari's hair again.

Hibari, too content, does not react in the slightest.

"Kyouya," Dino whines. "Now _I'll_ be cold." He makes grand, exaggerated gestures in what Hibari deems a waste of energy, towards his jeans and layers of tees.

Hibari pauses to regard Dino for maybe a moment, unimpressed. He continues walking.

Dino merely laughs, breath condensing the air into tiny, cloudy puffs. Then, with a smile several shades too playful, Dino's reaching around from behind, mindful of the way Hibari's shoulders stiffen visibly even under his newest coat. He places large hands into larger pockets, encasing Hibari in a sort-of embrace as he tangles up their fingers in a tight, hot-cold grip.

Hibari's looking down, and if that's a hint of a dusting of pink on his cheeks, Dino can't see it.

(He can feel it.)


End file.
